


Rotten Bonds

by crowcawcaw



Series: After Graduation [2]
Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowcawcaw/pseuds/crowcawcaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of three parallel stories succeeding 'After Graduation-The Beginning.' This one will follow Togami and Fukawa as Togami tries to remake the world in his own image (with Fukawa inconveniently at his side), and realizes it might be a lot harder than he initially thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rotten Bonds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and an incredibly sincere thank you to everyone who read 'After Graduation: The Beginning', and have waited patiently during my hiatus for the three follow-up stories! Here I present the opening (and unexpectedly long) chapter of Togami and Fukawa's story, which I ultimately decided to give an M rating due mostly to the type of content which surfaces in the original game. Please expect the opening chapters of Naegi and Kirigiri's story, and Hagakure and Aoi's, to be coming soon!

The last of the Togamis. Junko must have been right. At this point he saw no incentive for her to lie about one fact when all the rest had proved true. His family was dead. And he’d come into his inheritance in full. What was left of it, anyway.

Togami drummed his fingers on the intricately carved agarwood table, slung low to the ground. He was sitting with his legs crossed on a once tastefully embroidered eiderdown pillow – now ruined from rain – and stared out the gaping hole in the dining room’s wall sized window. It overlooked the city from an angle that didn’t afford him an unfortunate view of Naegi’s poorly interpreted face.

“Y-your coffee Byakuya-sama,” Fukawa pushed aside a partition ahead of him and stumbled out of the kitchen; her socked feet slipping slightly on the tightly woven tatami mat floor. She grabbed the door frame to steady herself, clutching a coffee pot tight against her flat chest. She was suddenly frozen, staring out the broken window.

“Ahem…” He coughed irritably after a moment. Fukawa started, slopping some of the hot coffee from the pot where it splashed down on her socks and pooled on the floor. Wincing, she hurried to his side and knelt down, face scarlet. Togami returned his gaze to the sheaf of papers directly before him as she filled his mug which sat almost lost amongst thick green folders of paper. He had collected the assortment during his ongoing exploration of what had been his former home and business; mostly from boardrooms, dining areas, lobby’s and ballrooms in the building’s lower, business focused half. What was frustrating was the number of doors (especially offices) he still found staunchly locked with no obvious means of entry. Whoever had trashed the building had obviously done it sporadically and for superficial reasons, leaving Togami hopeful that he would be able to uncover all the information he desired about what led up to this disaster, he only needed to figure out how to pick. The upper half – a multitier private penthouse of sorts – was where he found himself now and where he had most eagerly anticipated finding information behind the heavy oaken doors of his father’s private office.

His thoughts returned to the documents he was leafing through before him. Stocks that had rose and fell. A business deal that had or had not gone through. Plans for a job interview. Plans for a high-end cocktail party. The reports of some speculators. A pile of economic journals. For a moment a discussion of the automobile market made him pause mid sip in the realization that he would need to make drastic changes to his stock profile. Then he remembered that his stock assets and the whole market itself were now naught but scraps of paper floating in the wind.

Wherever people existed and wanted, so would an economy also. But it was impossible that any formal firm had the means to operate in any capacity, given the utter devastation and silence of the city outside his window. Out there no one was substituting, weighing infinite costs and values; providing factor services and consuming products. No one was inventing and strategizing, increasing potential output and prompting the world to scramble to a new, better equilibrium.

No, the world was scantly spinning on its axis. Thousands of years of human advancement to create the most efficient, spontaneous system of the creation and dispersal of all things humanity could both desire and imagine… absolutely crushed.

There would be no investing in Honda this year. The intricacies of the Japanese and international economy he had tracked throughout most of his conscious life had been rendered utterly moot. Feeling quite profoundly put out at the thought, Togami folded up the magazine and tossed it away bitterly. He groaned in frustration upon realizing he had reached the end of his reading materials.

Well, he’d go over what he had gleaned so far: it seemed the Togami conglomerate must have been one of the first places Despair struck. Which made sense, seeing as it was one of the most powerful pillars of commerce (and thus social cohesion) in Japan, if not the world. And everyone present in the high-rise had either fled or been killed. Over the course of his investigation Togami had already seen from a distance several piles of elegant suits housing rotted, black skinned skeletons. He’d made sure to steer well clear of them to avoid triggering the emergence of Syo, as Fukawa was still following him (despite his demands she stay in one room of the building and mind her own business while he went about his).

Togami looked up, regarding her. She immediately flushed and looked away, having been staring at him baldly. Why did she have to be so goddamn useless and creepy? He thought in frustration. Attending to his task solo would’ve almost seemed a blessing if not for its inadvisability at this point. True, he needed _someone_ in his employment as he went about his new objective of reallocating himself to a position of power in the inevitable regrouping of society. But (as much as he would never admit it), he’d have much preferred bringing Naegi with him. Naegi, while hopelessly dim, at least could follow instructions like a marginally average human being without drooling, shrieking, or freestyling porn. Or trying to kill him.

But of course Naegi had followed Kirigiri like an obedient puppy. And, from that idiotic broadcast Togami and any other godforsaken soul alive had probably seen, it appeared Kirigiri only had to play the fiddle for him to dance. Goddamn that girl. Constantly seeking to undermine him. And for someone who appeared fairly intelligent, she sure put a lot of idiotic faith in Naegi as something more than pawn material.

I bet they are in love – he thought with contempt, finishing his coffee with an aggressive swallow. How positively hopeless. He removed the communicator from his pocket and set it on the table in front of him. He loathed seeking council from a woman who appeared to have been brought to her knees by Makoto Naegi, of all people, but unfortunately he knew of exactly one place he was going to be able to get the advice he needed. It was time he had access to his father’s documents.

“Alter Ego?” He spoke loftily. The program’s chipper face materialized on the screen before him.

“How may I be of service Togami-kun?”

“Call Kirigiri,”

“Calling!”

“Good morning, Togami-kun,” The image of Kirigiri filled the screen, notably steady and well angled – it appeared she had switched to using the laptop Naegi’s broadcast had been filmed on.

“Is it?” He replied dourly. She said nothing but stared at him impassively with her perpetually lifeless expression akin to that of a dead fish. He adjusted his glasses.

“I’m calling to request you share your commonly criminal skills at invading people’s privacy. There are some very important documents I need to force access to,” He said importantly. One of Kirigiri’s eyebrows twitched upward.

“…I need you to tell me how to pick a lock. These doors are reinforced with steel and there’s no breaking them down,” He elaborated irately. Kirigiri folded her hands neatly in front of her in silence, seeming to take time to gather prepare her response. Togami resumed the drumming of his fingers on the table, waiting impatiently for her explanation.

“What do you expect to find?” Kirigiri finally asked instead. Ugh. Must he explain everything?

“Well my father’s private office will have the most pertinent information on our situation. Then the Togami family library, of course.” He revealed importantly.

There was a thud as Fukawa’s knees jerked up and hit the table. He glanced over at her sourly.

“Byakuya-sama…has a library…?” She clasped her hands around her knees, pulling them into her chest and rocking back and forth, eyes wide.

“Of course I do, this isn’t the Stone Age.” He sneered.

“Maybe you could…take me up against the stacks…” She whispered hoarsely. “Take a sorry, disgusting pale white girl who never leaves the shadows of the library. I bend down to pick up the perfect book for reference in my new novel…” She rocked back and forth faster, gripping the folds of her skirt.

“You’d come up behind me to punish me for leaving books on the floor. I wouldn’t even see it coming…”

“Maybe you could shut up,” He snapped, his face flushing angrily. “And bring me some breakfast before your presence completely turns off my stomach!”

Fukawa rose to her feet and traipsed slowly from the room, muttering something about the library under her breath.

Togami turned back to Kirigiri. “Tell me how to pick the locks so I can get at the documents we need and then lock _her_ up in there for good,”

Kirigiri had folded her arms.

“The documents we need.” She said.

“Yes,”

“So we are a “we”, then,”

“Goddamn it, Kirigiri you’re the one who insisted we still keep up a partnership in this godforsaken wasteland. You have things I want, I have things you want. That’s how it works, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you’re holding a grudge because I don’t have a proper team attitude,” He snorted incredulously.

“No, actually I was just making sure you still considered us a team unit. I was worried we might have offended you by using the broadcasting signal, but really time was of the essence. If Naegi represents a beacon of civilization the most important thing we can do right now is to allow him to shine.” She said in a voice of infuriating certainty.

“Whatever,” He snapped. “That’s your short-sighted opinion.”

“Shortsighted hmm?” Kirigiri mused thoughtfully. “So after I help you gain access to these files, do you not plan to join us in searching for the resistance?”

She could tell, he thought angrily. She could tell he had his own plans. Ambitious, worthy-of-the-Togami-family plans to rally the important survivors under his guidance and power. And she had the gall to _judge_ him for it when he knew she wanted to do exactly the same thing. And not even on the basis of her own merit but by using Naegi as some sort of mascot. Disgusting.

“I’m working on it.” He said scornfully. “Really Kirigiri, if it isn’t obvious by this point that I want to eradicate that hideous Despair and revive the world as much as you, I really don’t know what else to say. You’re supposed to be the Super-High-School Level Detective, deduce it yourself. Or do you need a pipe and a deerstalker cap for that?”

Kirigiri shrugged, staring at him blandly. _That’s what I thought_ ; Togami thought regaining a level of smugness, _she can’t even begin to imagine the connections I have._

“Well come on then,” He commanded. “I’ll bring the communicator to my father’s office and you can explain how to pick the lock. It’s for your own good. And besides, you lot owe me after airing that immaturely sentimental broadcast without my consent.”

“I happen to disagree on both of those accounts,” said Kirigiri. She held up a finger to forestall the next argument rising hotly to Togami’s lips. “But very well, I will help you.”

 _Finally._ Togami nodded curtly, rising to his feet.

“Bring Fukawa-san with you,” She added.

“Why,” He griped.

“You’re going to need her.”

 _Lovely_.

“Fukawa!” He yelled aggressively into the kitchen.

“Y-yes?!” She came barrelling out the door, colliding with his right shoulder. She was holding a can of tuna one hand and a can opener in the other, looking terrified.

“I…c-couldn’t open the can!” She shrieked hysterically.

“Never mind your utter inadequacy to be the house servant I never wanted,” Said Togami, snatching both items tiredly from her hands and rolling his eyes at her stutterances. “Just follow me.”

His long legs carried him quickly through the penthouse to the clean, modern spiral staircase at its center, which he scaled with ease. Fukawa trotted behind him, struggling to keep up and making repetitive motions to grab at his arm (which Togami made repetitive motions to shake off).

“No signs of the individual who followed you yet, I suppose,” Came Kirigiri’s voice from his left hand. He pulled up the communicator to eye her shrewdly.

“No,” He shot back a bit too shortly. Kirigiri merely pressed her fingers to her lips and nodded. Togami let his arm swing back to his side, disgruntled that she had brought it up. The event had been much more unsettling than he wanted to dwell on. It was nothing to be worried about, he insisted to himself. Not when he was back at the high-rise with the knowledge of his environment. And there was really no evidence that the individual had been following him for any great lengths of time at all, it could have been a simple encounter…

They had been about halfway to his high-rise when it happened, taking in the destruction in mutual silence. _How could this happen to the greatest city in the world…_ Togami had thought; his face gradually flushing as shock – and the new taste of the air, flavored with oil and dirt – began to sink in. His shoes struck the pavement angrily with every step, kicking shards of glass which twinkled in the hot, rising sunlight. He almost wished Junko hadn’t committed suicide so he could have wrung her despicable neck for doing this to him. This world had been his fucking oyster and now it was nothing but trash.

Pausing to lean against a street sign and hack out his thousandth distasteful inhalation, he chanced to glance down a side street.

And seen _its_ face.

For a moment of sheer irrationality, Togami had thought that it really was Monobear before him, as though the bear had pulled itself from the wreckage of Junko’s execution and absolved to continue carrying out her repulsive punishments. But that perception was absurd because the bears head sat atop a very human torso and pair of legs – dressed in black, filthy clothing.

Heart racing, Togami and the Monobear headed individual had stared at each other for what seemed an entire terrible minute. Then stranger suddenly ran down the alley and out of sight.

Togami glanced quickly back at Fukawa, who stood beside him, her watery grey eyes streaming from irritant as she violently scratched at the top of her head with the impression of someone violently confused (though she probably just had head lice). It seemed she had seen nothing. _Good_ , Togami thought, trying to think rationally over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, his heartbeat still erratic. _Last thing I need is_ her _freaking out_. He absolved to make it to his high-rise as quickly as possible. That promised safety. Had that hideous member of Despair been following them? Regardless…it had fled in the opposite direction…

Intensely wary, his head swiveling every time they turned a corner or crossed an intersection, Togami sped up for the rest of the journey. Finally, _finally_ , the crest of his high-rise came into his view.

The sun sparkled on spider web cracks.

Despite the inevitability of it, Togami couldn’t help but feel a rising anger bordering on abject indignation pounding in his head. How could this happen to him?! He, who’d done everything right. They’d reached the foot of the building when he finally stopped and fully regarded its squalled splendor; right down to the amber marble embossed sign proclaiming the Togami Business Conglomerate’s Private Headquarters and Residence – now coated over with a layer of spray paint rendering Monobear’s gleeful image. Fukawa caught up to him, her breathing ragged.

“This is it,” He said brusquely. She gazed up at it, suddenly still.

“Our p-palace… at the end of the world…”

 _What._ He glared at her for a moment, then stepped through the shattered glass double doors and into the resplendent lobby. It was that last look over his shoulder, to see what Fukawa had yelped about (she had caught her braid on a splinter of the glass), when he had last seen something move out of the corner of his eye that made him worry he had been traced after all. But he’d been on edge, and besides, if the mural he’d discovered the next morning had proved anything it was that members of the Resistance had been lurking outside of his high-rise those four days ago – not Despair.

Besides, now at least, he was confident of his security. Up where he was now, many windows up in the penthouse seemed to have been broken by blasts or gunfire from the surrounding city, rather than internally by rioters like the lower levels. While ruined by weather and shrapnel from without, there were rooms he’d found still locked – revealing he still had jurisdiction over some places more or less undisturbed. He had even spent the night in his own room, lying (albeit in a state of mostly angry sleeplessness) on top of the musty sheets of his grand, king size bed – the door comfortingly locking Fukawa out in the hallway.

“‘S‘at Torgomi-kurn?”

“What the hell did you just call me?” Togami said irritatedly, returning the communicator to eye level to see Naegi had appeared beside Kirigiri, his hair wet and a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Upon seeing Togami enter the frame he removed it and offered small smile.

“Hey Togami-kun, how’re you? I think I see Fukawa-san there? Ah! Yeah, how’re you Fukawa-san?”

“F-fine…” Fukawa said pensively, finally managing to catch her arms around Togami’s. “W-why do you think I wouldn’t be?”

“What’s got you all earnest?” Said Togami grumpily, shaking her off for the umpteenth time and eyeing Naegi critically. “Really you should take care to look well when you present to me. I don’t normally permit people to talk to me when they look like…that. Especially when they have toothpaste drivelling down their chin.” He added distastefully. Naegi wiped a hand across his chin a little sheepishly.

“Er, I just think we should all make sure that we stay in good touch with one another while we’re separated!” He recovered sincerely. “So we can stay close, help each other and keep each other’s spirits up!”

“Well you’re in luck,” Said Togami sardonically. “Kirigiri-san and I are working together without any allegations of distrust or ulterior motives!”

Naegi looked confused, glancing hesitantly between the two of them. “Uhh…that’s great?”

“I’m helping Togami-kun pick a lock,” offered Kirigiri, unfazed by Togami’s dig.

“Oh! Well, that’s good. I hope you find something important!” He said seriously. “Let me know if I can help in any way!”

“You can’t,” Togami sniffed. “I know that you feel like the world has accepted you as their Lord and Saviour, but this is one flock you don’t need to constantly tend to.”

“I don’t think that at all!” Protested Naegi, looking hurt. “You don’t think I do…do you?!”

“Your broadcast spoke for itself,” said Togami, raising an eyebrow.

“I…I was just trying to help! Togami-kun – ”

“Naegi as hard as this may be for you to believe I actually don’t _care_ how you cultivate your precious public image to the Resistance, so don’t bother trying to justify it to me. See the Togami’s already have an image and it’s one of wealth, power and success. And anyway; from now on actions speak louder than words.” He said imperiously, turning down the hall.

“Uh…okay. Right,” Said Naegi rather awkwardly. “Well… um, did Kirigiri-san tell you that Hagakure-kun and Asahina-san left this morning?”

“I think you talked about it the other night, they were planning to go hunting for Bigfoot or something, right?” He replied boredly.

“What? No!” Naegi exclaimed. “Th-they’re searching for a Sakura tree…for our classmates!”

“Oh right. Knew it was something like that. Alright here we are.” He said, coming to a halt in front of a large, oaken door. “Naegi I’m going to have to ask you to leave, go yell at some trees to have hope that they won’t end up choked lifeless by air pollution like the rest of us. See, I’m going to need Kirigiri’s full attention – can’t have her continuing to get sexually distracted by your tousled bedhead and idiotic facial expressions.”

“W-what?!” Said Naegi, looking legitimately alarmed. Kirigiri’s flat composure seemed to dip ever so slightly into severely cold amusement. Togami smirked. _Ha_.

“Alright Kirigiri-san, what do you make of this,” He said, moving the communicators camera up to the keyhole.

“Move it back slightly,” came her voice, sounding vaguely irritated. He did so.

“Well the Togami family may be grand enough to gold plate their locks but there’s absolutely nothing special about the structure.” Said Kirigiri loftily. Togami’s smirk fell.

“If it’s so simple then you should have no trouble telling me how to unlock it,” He grumped, keeping his voice controlled if not his malevolent expression (which the camera was still mercifully pointed away from).

“Without overcomplicating things or sending you on a search for more suitable equipment, I’m going to have you start out with putting two hairpins flat-end to flat end.”

“Where am I going to get hairpins?” Said Togami unthinkingly. “Oh, dammit, Fukawa – ”

But she had already pulled two from the front of her hair, causing the greasy black strands held back by them to fall across the side of her face. He held out his left hand and she dropped them instantly into them.

“Will these do?” He held them up to the camera for Kirigiri to inspect.

“Yes, now I’ll use my own and take you through the steps. You’re going to need both hands for this,”

“Okay hold on. You better not drop this,” He commanded Fukawa, handing her the camera (who at his words immediately started shaking). He knelt down so he was level with the key hole, positioning the hairpins. “Keep I can see it at eye level.”

Like she had said, Kirigiri walked Togami through the process; until finally a satisfyingly loud click told him her instructions – however stingily given – had done the job.

“There,” Said Togami, testing the handle, which now turned with ease. “Your assistance was satisfactory. I’ll leave you to your important work doing…whatever it is you’re doing,”

“Good luck,” Said Kirigiri. “I look forward to hearing about your findings.”

Togami gave a terse nod. “Hang up the phone, Fukawa,”

“B-bye…” Fukawa said, avoiding making eye contact with the girl on the other end of the camera as she scrabbled for the end call button and the picture winked out of sight. Togami stood, brushing dust off his pant legs.

“Alright,” He said, more to himself than Fukawa (who he hadn’t noticed had knelt down to pick her hairpins off the floor). “This is where the real intrigue begins.” He turned the handle and pushed open the door, and strode into his father’s study with purpose. The first thing he noticed was that the floor was littered with papers spotted with brown – pushed skittering across the floor and up to his shoes by a breeze from the shattered window.

The second was the black and shrunken form of a corpse sprawled across the desk.

Before Togami knew what his body was doing, he had stumbled directly backward and found his head colliding with the doorframe. Something like bile was rising in the back of his throat but he didn’t know why. There was a corpse in his father’s chair, lying across his desk. There was a pistol in his hand. In his mouth. There was dead man in his father’s office. A suicidal man.

At once he knew it to be a cruel, tasteless joke. But there was no mistaking his favorite Italian suit. There was no mistaking, even from here – the Togami crested ring on his right hand. The multi-billion yen diamond inlaid wedding band on the other. No mistaking what he already knew. What he had been told. Togami’s fingernails dug viciously into the palms of his hands. He heard Junko’s words as clearly as though they rang through the room that very moment. _I have personally confirmed the deaths of everyone you are connected to, including all your relatives. I can positively assert that the Togami family is dead and gone._

“Byakuya-sama?” Fukawa stepped into the room hesitantly. There was a sharp, harsh intake of breath. Too late Togami tore his eyes from his father’s lifeless body to see Fukawa sway and hit the floor with a resounding smack. _No…_

In the next instant the girl was on her feet again. Her head swiveled, fixing Togami in her sights as the wild bloodlust of Syo shone through her pupils, her tongue distending from her mouth in a gleeful grin.

“ _Not_ this time, darling!” The Genocider shrieked. In a flash her skirt flared up and Togami’s pathetic movement toward the inside of his jacket was cut short as he felt his arm jerk back against the wall – the point of a pair of scissors piercing his sleeve and very narrowly missing his arm. Suddenly the fulcrum of a second pair of flew up to at the base of his neck, the two blades stretched wide, as Syo pushed herself aggressively up against his body. His heart thundered against her.

“You didn’t get to listen to me finish my grand speech,” She pouted, though her eyes flashed ecstatically. “I had so many inspiring things to say! To congratulate myself on! I did it! I got through the whole school life of mutual killings without killing a single soul! Aren’t you proud of me Byakuya-sama? I SAID AREN’T YOU PROUD?!”

She pressed the scissors violently against his pulsating arteries, looking manic.

“SAY YOU’RE PROUD!”

“I’m…proud,” Togami said, his face purpling with fear and anger.

“Say you’ve never seen such a dirty girl behave so well…” She giggled, “Why, I behaved so well you wanted to spank me for _lying_ about how sweet and nice I was!”

“I- ” Togami stiffened. If he could only get her to back off…

“Get away from me!” He yelled with an angry sneer. He tried to push her away, but despite her slenderness, Syo possessed a disturbing strength. She merely tightened herself against him and reached down the front of her skirt, careful to expose scarlet red panties as she pulled up another pair of scissors from the holster around her leg. In a single smooth motion she sliced open the cut over Togami’s eyebrow.

“I think we’ll make that a nice scar, don’t you?” She said, smiling happily. “Oooh yes it will! Byakuya-sama, how dashing! And that’s what happens to naughty boys who don’t play the game properly! Last time it was lights out for gloomy you did the hiding and I did the seeking and I even promised I wouldn’t kill you if when I won I got a sweet, tender kiss. I’m still waiting for my kiss, Byakuya-sama. I’m waitiiiiing!”

Finishing her trilling final note, she pressed her tongue against his cheek – hot, wet, and perversely long. It traced its way like a snake to corner of his mouth. Togami pressed his lips tightly closed. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Using the arm pinned only by her body weight, he made a frantic attempt to push her off again. This time he succeeded in shoving her back a few steps, but she adapted in the same movement by encapsulated his thrusting wrist between the razors blades of the two scissors.

“Awwww, but Byakuya-sama,” She said, looking down at the trap he found his hand in. “If I slice off your hand first, how will it give me its job?”

“GYAHAHA!” She cackled “That was a pretty good joke, right? Don’t you think? Ah yes, this is why I’ll miss you, darling, you really bring out my best!”

“Don’t pretend like you’re going to kill me,” Togami snarled aggressively through the blood running down his face from his left eyebrow. “We’re the only ones out here, you won’t have any more prey for as long as you live unless you draw it out now. You plan for the future, you’re not stupid.”

“Oh stop! Stop! I can’t take it! I’m so turned on!” Her face wore a hideous smile, and she gave an exquisite shiver to accentuate it. “Such arrogance! Yet such high-end praise! I’m not stupid you say?”

With that strength that seemed beyond her she suddenly threw his arm up against the wall and pinned it there by the sleeve. Now on both sides of him his arms spread out and upward, like some half-hearted rendition of a Y.

“Yes, yes I’m not stupid. I know you’re trying to keep me locked up.” She said, gripping his chin with a slight frown as he struggled fruitlessly. She turned around and stepped away from him, then flexibly bent over backwards to stare at him upside down.

“What _was_ that you used on me last time? Pepper, right?! Such witchcraft!” She bit her thumb angrily, blood rushing to her upside-down features. “How unfair! Don’t tell me that you actually _prefer_ having Gloomy around! I could do things to you she could never even _dream_ of!”

Togami glared at her, still tugging his arms against the fabric, but more surreptitiously now. There seemed not even a ghost of a possibility it would tear. Damn his extremely expensive, finely woven jacket. On his right arm however, he began to realize the dress shirt beneath it was only just barely pinned. If he could pull his arm down out of his sleeve fast enough…

“What scared her anyway?” She said straightening and looking around. “Ha, isn’t it great that I always come out when Gloomy gets scared? I get all the fun that way,” She winked heartily at him, his transgression seemingly forgotten for the moment.

“Ahah! Is this it?” She spotted the corpse – his father’s corpse – pranced over and bent down to look at it.

“Pff! Just an old dead body! Stupid!” Syo leaped onto the desk like a gazelle, towering legs spread over the splayed torso of his father and turning around to look back down at Togami. She held her forefingers and thumbs together to form a square, squinting through one eye as though trying to frame something on the wall.

“Hmmm…BLOODSTAIN FEVER!” She screeched. “Haha, would here be a good place? I’m talking about just above your left shoulder. Woops! My left, your right. Funny how that happens!” She laughed wildly at Togami’s wan face.

“Ohoho so scared already! There’s no need to be, dear – we _are_ going to have some fun first! You’re right about that! …Ooo unless you’re the kind of boy who being scared gets him all riled up. Gets his very special _member_ all riled up! In that case, go ahead, _be scared._ I can be even more terrifying! Terrifying enough to get exactly what I want! I always am!”

She held up the scissors and accentuated their snipping noises. “GYAHAHAHA!”

As she leapt down she kicked the desk’s nameplate, spinning it to the floor.

“Eh?” She bent down to look at it.

_No._

“Byakuya Togami _Senior?_ Byakuya-sama…is this the date where I meet your parents?!” Her face shone with a terrifying glee. She turned back to the corpse. Togami felt his stomach turn over. _Get away you sick bitch…_

Syo bowed low to the corpse.

“Hello Togami-sama, oh, should I shake your hand? This is a business environment.” She picked up the rotting hand that wasn’t attached to the hand gun and shook it heartily.

“Why yes I am seeing your son,” She giggled. “I know! My longest relationship so far! I might even become your daughter-in-law if I don’t decide to cut him to ribbons today instead!”

He had to end this now. Tearing his paralyzed attention away from the horrible sight before him (something partially aided by the blood streaming down over one of his eyes), Togami tested his right sleeve again. Yes…his dress shirt should rip if he pulled hard enough.

Syo was cackling. “Oh yes, I’m very flighty but when I _do_ make a decision I really commit! I hope we can be friends!”

She rounded on Togami now, sticking her tongue out in a horrid imitation of sweetness.

“What a nice father,” She cooed, running her fingers up his chest. “Although I can’t say I see the family resemblance. You’re a much prettier boy than this sack of bones. Got more backbone too. Looks like he just put a gun in his mouth and blew his own brains out – ”

“NO!” With a sudden roar, Togami ripped his arm down his sleeve, clasping the pepper shaker from his inside pocket and tossing it up at her face.

“Auuuh!” She scrabbled at her eyes as she stumbled back, looking at him, enraged. “Eeeugh…No… naht again Byakuya-ah-ACHOO!”

The fire fled from her eyes with the violent sneeze, replaced with Fukawa’s watery confusion.

“Eh?” She sniffed, blinking blearily.

“CLOSE YOUR EYES!” Togami bellowed. With a yelp, she did as she was told. _Thank god…_ Heart still pounding as though he had run a marathon, Togami stashed the shaker and used his newly freed hand to yank the scissors out of his clothing and stow them in his trouser pockets. He pulled his arm back through the jacket sleeve, in the process elbowing Fukawa hard in the forehead, who fell backwards onto the ground.

“I…did I…did she…” She began whimpering, her eyes still screwed shut. “I’m sorry – ”

“Get OUT!” Togami yelled angrily, grabbing her by the back of her shirt and tugging jerkily until she managed to pull her feet under her and stumble out through the door. Togami slammed it shut, bending over to place his hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

How had he been so stupid to let his guard down? He’d known the Togami family was destroyed. Of course this included his father. He’d already known such an inane fact, yet its gruesome confirmation had caused a moment of such paralyzing hesitation that he had allowed Syo the opportunity to go to new indulgent lengths in toying with him. No. Tormenting him. The first time she’d appeared she had been curious enough about their new surroundings and more than willing to let him run off for a game of ‘hide-and-seek.’ This had allowed him the time to secure a shaker of pepper on his person, and it had been a genius idea to use the irritant to trigger her transformation back to Fukawa, he’d been sure he’d have her completely under control with such a weapon. But just now she’d gotten out and really seemed almost ready to kill him...

Whatever. He’d just have to be more careful next time, Togami thought angrily. He wouldn’t let anything like this upset him again. There could be nothing else that would throw him off his guard anyway, truly he’d already seen the worst of everything in this rotten turn his life had taken.

Mobilizing his legs – which against his will were still shaking like the paper in the breeze – Togami walked up to his father’s corpse. It lay draped across papers stained completely through with the aged rusty brown of long dried blood. He looked down at it, his mouth set in a hard line, swallowing again the bitter acid rising up in his throat. When Junko had informed him of the destruction of the Togami family, he had expected murder. Assassination. Was that it then? It had to be…The position of the handgun was staged. His father would have never succumbed to such pathetic despair... Never have given in.

The Togami family was lighthouse of the world’s free commerce, and its denizens would have fought with all their wits to the bitter end, taking an eye for an eye. But bullet hole, surrounded by ripped flesh and the fewest of remaining black hairs on the back of the skull, seemed to Togami the exact trajectory from where the muzzle of the gun rested (between nauseatingly exposed teeth and a shrivelled tongue). There could be no questioning it, he told himself.

“What happened to you,” Togami meant to sneer. It came out as a hoarse whisper. True, he had never been what could be called emotionally close to his father. The Togami family made a point to keep the formality and decorum their station designated present in all their relationships. But he had… admired the man. Looked up to him, even – though he’d known that one day his superior intellect and aims would allow him to surpass him.

But no…it was apparent now more than ever he was _so much_ more than his father’s heir. And he’d always known that, he reminded himself, even then. Though they hadn’t…insisting he attend an elite boarding school full of idiots when he was perfectly capable of teaching himself. He’d been plotting to build exponentially on his father’s, his grandfather’s, his great-grandfather’s legacy, to multiply his family’s wealth by the thousands. He was the newest model, the best evolution of the Togami blood, the blood of victors.

And victors didn’t give up and roll over and die for no reason. The longer Togami stared at his father’s corpse the more he realized this man was no longer even deserving of the name. He pushed his glasses roughly up the bridge of his nose. Disgusting…disgusting disgusting!

“I’ll show you how a true Togami acts in adversity,” He declared loudly over the corpse to the empty room. His voice cracked. With revulsion etched on every line of his aggrieved face, he began the work which needed to be done – picking through his father’s clothes until he found the silver key ring.

Giving a relieved exhale as his fingers closed around them, he began systematically unlocking the drawers of the desk and the surrounding file cabinets, moving stacks of green file folders out the slightly ajar door. He gathered all the loose leaf papers and did likewise, and when he was finally assured that he had stripped the room of all useful information, returned to his father’s body.

After a moment’s thought, and with a hard swallow of disgust, he removed the pistol from his father’s hand – bits of soft back flesh rubbing off to reveal white bone beneath as he did so. He turned it carefully around in his hands? Was it still loaded? He didn’t know how to release the ammunition cache. Finally he found the word designating the safety catch, and after a short struggle, he managed to lock it. _There,_ he thought grimly, placing the small gun within his inside jacket pocket. Its weight felt odd there, he had never held a gun. But of all times and places now seemed a good time to start. Never mind he didn’t know how to use it yet. He was armed, and he embodied both the breeding _and_ spirit of a true Togami. _See members of Despair try to come after me now…_ he thought savagely. _I’ll blow their goddamn heads off._

And for his final act (he would never return to this room again if it could be helped), Togami removed the family ring from his father’s corpse, and slid it on his own finger. He was the head of the household now. He exited the room, shutting the door soundly behind him, and surveyed the piles of information sat in the hallway. Between two stacks (and almost eclipsed by their height) was a whimpering Fukawa. She still pressed her hands against her eyes, her glasses hanging crooked in front of them. _Damn her_. He should have never agreed to let her come. Should have demanded Naegi come instead. But there was no way to help it now. With any luck he’d soon have much better (and less dangerous) aids at his disposal. And then he’d be able to rid himself of her for good. He wiped the blood off his face the best he could.

“Fukawa,” He finally said brusquely, pressing two fingers to the stinging, but now only shallowly bleeding cut across his eyebrow. “You can open your damn eyes now. Help me carry these to my room.”

Fukawa blinked and looked up at him. Her eyes sought out the dried blood across his temple, pupils contracting to small, terrified dots in her irises.

“Don’t you dare pass out,” He warned her angrily. “Look at your shoes if you have to.”

“I-I’m sorry Byakuya-sama…! I won’t let it happen again! I w-won’t let her win! She’s terrible – she’s not me she’s everything I hate!” She stammered frantically. The high pitch of her voice made Togami suddenly aware of a blinding headache coming on. “It’s…I – ”

“Shut up and carry these.” He said. “I don’t want to hear you talk about it,”

After a few mercifully silent trips (besides Fukawa’s awkwardly distressed hiccupping), the files had all been moved into his bedroom.

“Do not disturb me for the rest of the day.” He said, turning around in the doorway and forcing her to take a step backwards. “Do what I’ve told you a million times before and mind your own business before you end up killing us both.”

Fukawa looked down at her clenched hands, trembling. “I…I could help - ”

“No.” He shut the door and locked it, walking back towards his bed and exhaling heavily as a sudden wave of exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him. He flopped down onto his bed, kicking off his shoes and staring up at the intricately designed ceiling, the ornate skylight half shattered in the now late afternoon light. He wondered exactly what fate had come to his grandparents. His cousins. His mother…

Murdered probably. All of them. Though he had been sure that had been the case with his father. Togami decided he didn’t care to know. Even if they were murdered by Despair and not merely weak like his father had been, revenge was a foolish emotion. Someone with any strand of intelligence only acted to further his own ends. His goal was to rebuild the world in the Togami image.

And giving in to such common and human cares as exhaustion by just lying there was almost as bad as wallowing in despair – something the last of the Togamis was most certainly not doing. Propping himself up against his large pillows and baroque headboard, he tiredly opened the first file – immersing himself in the next wave of information and doing his best to ignore the ragged breathing of Fukawa as she sat, unmoving, outside his door for the rest of the day.


End file.
